“An exciting novel, one that will be even better when you do the final polish. ” ~ Joan Hall Hovey
A quote from my mentor and writing tutor, Joan Hall Hovey, award winning author of suspense novels: Listen to the Shadows, Nowhere to Hide, Chill Waters and most recently, Night Corridor.
Words that inspire me onwards and upwards…to nurture this novel through its gestational stage to the birth of my dream…
I have tweaked and reworked the beginning (again) as I gain confidence and knowledge of my craft.
The following is an excerpt from my novel,
…Before The Dawn.
I hope you like it and I welcome your feedback. Enjoy…
In the suffocating darkness of the overstuffed closet, her breathing took on a life of its own. Hard, fast, shallow. Gasping for air.
Her jaw clicked as she clenched down and she felt the tendons in her neck cording tightly. As perspiration began to bead above her upper lip, she bit down on her lower one to silence herself. A coppery taste trickled backwards onto her tongue. She touched her lip tentatively, then drew her finger away. The glow from her phone was sufficient for her to see she had drawn blood.
Isolated as she was now, she could no longer hear the rattling of the sliding glass doors. Was he already inside or did he give up? The not knowing created a sickening hole in the pit of her stomach. She was tempted to push back the row of clothes and ease the closet open, but she knew better.
He hasn’t given up. Wouldn’t. Ever.
The silence amplified each breath as it rose in a crescendo to the next, building to a deafening rhythm. The pounding of her heart was a wild jungle drum warning of imminent danger. She sucked in some air. Held it. Her grasp tightened around the phone as the seconds ticked on as if stretching into days. “Please,” she murmured quietly. Please.
The ringing stopped, and although she’d been anticipating it, she startled at the sound of the man’s voice. It was so perfectly composed.
She could think of no better word for it, yet, it had the opposite effect on her, escalating emotions and making everything more real, somehow. Her next breath was smooth on the intake, deep going in but fragmented and staccato on the way out. The sound resonated through and around her, as if punctuating her fear.
Faced with her silence, as calmly as before, the man repeated, “Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”
She forced composure upon herself. Willed herself to be strong. Hugging the cell phone closer to her ear, she whispered as loud as she dared, “He’s here. Help me, please.”
“Police. I need the police. Now!”